


hollow indigo

by joeri



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Extreme Dirty Talking I'm So Sorry, Facials, Hair-pulling, M/M, No Aftercare, Pre-Game Momota Kaito, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Rough Sex, Spanking, Trans Male Character, Trans Saihara Shuichi, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, kinda sorta consensual mind break a little maybe?, mouth fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeri/pseuds/joeri
Summary: kaito could stand to be a little meaner, shuichi thinks.





	hollow indigo

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this fic fucks with the idea of calling a partner 'daddy' in bed. it is not ddlg kink nor is it incest play. it is not noncon either. shuichi just likes rough sex.

The words Shuichi had said the night before reverberate through his brain, like an embarrassing blooper reel played on repeat: _“I think you could afford to be rougher with me, if… you really wanted to.”_

Kaito hadn’t gleaned what Shuichi meant by these words, instead taking the time to wrap a sweaty arm around his neck and pull him in tight with a bright, _“you don’t have to worry about that kinda stuff, Shuichi! I’d never do anything like that.”_

He… doesn’t know if that's better or worse than what he started with— when Kaito hadn’t the foggiest idea _why_ anyone would be interested in pain in the first place. All of his attempts at dropping hints hadn’t sailed. Shuichi had always wanted the confidence to replace ‘some people’ with _‘I,’_ as in, _‘I_ really like having my hair pulled’ or, _‘I_ kinda want to be talked down to’ instead of leading Kaito to believe these people only existed far off from where they were.

No such luck. Kaito was confused at best and possibly disgusted by the idea at worst. Getting into his brain wasn’t always the easiest task, but Shuichi wanted to believe that Kaito would want to make him happy. No part of Shuichi derived enjoyment out of thinking Kaito would be repulsed by his desire, but the thought crept in careful-like, slow and terrifying, and now he sat side-by-side the boy thinking that he’d made a mistake mentioning it at all.

Sometimes, he felt Kaito could be terribly thoughtful. Truly, he wasn’t as braindead as some people made him out to be. Simple, yes, but not an idiot. Straightforward and honest, plenty in spades, but that didn’t mean that sometimes he didn’t spy the astronaut out of the corner of his eye, staring into space less like he wanted to fly into it and more like he was being sucked into it.

It was for this reason that Shuichi couldn’t be sure if what he’d said was merely a throw-away line or if Kaito marinated upon it, thought it over, took apart its meaning and maybe even came to his own conclusions regarding Shuichi’s true nature. He sweats at the idea (as if he didn’t sweat over everything under the sun) and swallows hard.

_Momota-kun can’t know I’m horny 80% of the time._

Still, Kaito’s been spacier than he usually is, Shuichi notes, while altogether jumpier. His knee is rattling up and down in that way that he thinks all guys with adhd do, but he doesn’t care all too much this time about shaking the table. Usually he’d been rather conscientious of that, always chiding Kokichi whenever he’d run over and send their drinks spilling over or rattle the benches at all.

“Is… there something on your mind?” Shuichi starts in, taking notice to the way Kaito’s eyes flash in his direction with a razor sharp quickness; they look worn in and electric.

“Huh? Yeah, just—”

As if expecting there to be a chair-back behind him, Kaito leans in a practiced motion with a lazy grin and flounders a bit when he remembers he’s sat at a bench. Kaito grips the table fast. His face faults, blank momentarily before he starts giggling into a palm. His fingers thread back through his hair and Shuichi can’t help but think Kaito seems… different.

“Whoa there!” he laughs out, the dim washed out bravado in his voice utterly betraying what Shuichi knows about Kaito, as if he’s parodying himself. “Forgot where I was for a second,” he says, as if he’s proud of it.

“Oh, um, careful,” Shuichi chuckles out stiffly.

“I’m _real_ careful, I’m good,” Kaito mutters, maybe to himself; Shuichi isn’t sure what he means by it anyways, or why Kaito’s apparently become terrible at eye contact since breakfast.

“You’re good?” questions Shuichi.

“Yeah! Fuck yeah, I’m _here_ aren’t I?”

There’s an unusual color of aggression in his tone, and Shuichi isn’t sure what to make of it, but he smiles nonetheless.

“Yeah, we’re both here,” he repeats, letting his hand lay across Kaito’s serenely.

Kaito had made it so very apparent to him what being alive meant. Fighting intrusive thoughts wasn’t easy. Kaito’s terrible singing couldn’t put him to sleep nearly as well as his encouragement could, always reminding him that a day that you’re alive is a good day— that you should wake up every day and be thankful that you’re here to do one more thing, whatever that thing may be. The astronaut had laughed and said, _“I’m here one more day to sing Queen songs to you,”_ moments before Shuichi let him serenade him back to sleep.

The moment that Kaito’s eyes peer back up at Shuichi, he snickers before snaking his fingers around each of Shuichi’s. He smiles weakly with a little tilt of the head that Shuichi thinks he’d use when talking to a child. He’s smiling like he’s afraid his teeth will fall out if he tenses his jaw too much.

“Shucks, ain’t that the truth,” Kaito says, lifting Shuichi’s hand to kiss it with a tight-lipped smack. “You and I are just somethin’ else, aren’t we? We’re the kind of romance fans’ll go gaga over.”

While Kaito has always been touchy and overzealous, there’s a forcefulness Shuichi senses in the way he’s holding his wrist now, and he starts to pull his arm back slow. Kaito’s fingerbones twitch.

“Fans?” he asks with a smile of subtle amusement, eyebrows downturned but full of humor.

“Oh yeaah,” Kaito drawls, leaning in as he jitters to and fro in his seat, resembling a big cat about to pounce. _“It’s ‘cause you’re so damn cute,”_ he says in an excited whisper, like it’s a secret.

Blushing, Shuichi shifts in place and pretends that the stilted smirk on Kaito’s face wasn’t unbearably attractive to him, neither was the way he said those few words in a murmur. He hadn’t answered the question, but Shuichi knows it to be one of those things Kaito says that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to him. Kaito thinking of their love as being the thing of movies is the closest he gets, and he feels flush all over at the prospect.

“O-oh?” Shuichi coughs out.

Kaito nods and for the first time since they’ve known each other, Shuichi thinks he can see Kaito ogling him from across the table. His eyes trace him down and back up again, knowing every plane of Shuichi’s body beneath his clothes already and says, “definitely.”

* * *

Something is _definitely_ different about Kaito but Shuichi can’t tell exactly what’s the sitch. It’s not until they’re making moves toward Shuichi’s room that night that something’s a bit more obviously awry. They’ve not even made it into the dorm before Kaito’s knee has slid into his body and his mouth is all over his. Never one to say no to such attention and desire, Shuichi gladly kisses back, lets their tongues argue and all before he slides down the wall and out of Kaito’s grip (who regards him strangely for this).

Clearing his throat, Shuichi adjusts his shirt as if he’s not going to be yanking it off moments later.

“Let’s get inside,” he asserts, pointedly avoiding eye contact for some muddling reason; Kaito’s presence is more overwhelming tonight than it’s been since they started doing this.

Once they’re in, Kaito’s on him again. The door closes to the punctuation of Shuichi’s back being slammed into it. They kiss like two flames licking, hot and heavy, and with plenty of destruction. Shuichi’s never been disrobed so fast in his life and his arousal skyrockets as Kaito takes a bite out of his neck. If it wasn’t for his collar, he might be mad. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d _asked_ for this, he might be confused.

All Shuichi was, was shocked.

“Ah… M-momota-kun, I didn’t think you’d… taken my offer seriously,” he works out through sharp intakes of breath, rejoicing in the renewed pleasure flowing straight through him and to where Kaito’s knee is pressing.

“‘Course, baby, I just needed some time to think it over,” he says, and Shuichi doesn’t think Kaito’s ever called him baby before; it sounds natural but historically unfamiliar in his mouth.

“D-do you want to do this then?” Shuichi asks outright, feeling bolder now that Kaito’s making feverish welts up and down his neck. “Maybe, ah… you could treat me _bad_ tonight?” 

Knowing his request sounds so forced, so bizarre coming from his self conscious vocal cords, Shuichi’s baffled when Kaito smothers him quiet with a kiss, eating a few new moans from him before answering strongly, “I’d be happy to.”

* * *

Kaito, if you can call him that, lets a deep breathy moan come rumbling through his chest. It vibrates into the emptiest part of Shuichi’s core, filling him up, not too differently from how _he_ is. Languid, almost gentle when he rocks his hips up and in, Kaito’s fingers dance playfully down Shuichi’s spine. Like he’s become bored of the action, his touch crescendos into aggression— trails a line to the dents in his back and _smacks!_

Fervidly, Shuichi cries, bucks, and feels Kaito slide into him deeply. Not an inch separates their hips. In the moments when Shuichi’s body were jerked up and out, Kaito’s crept in closer. Shuichi’s body relaxes back into place only to find he’s unbearably near. Hovering, even.

Watching as Kaito’s hand over takes his own, easily, he recalls how easily their fingers fit into one another’s. What he hasn’t learned is how brittle his wrist feels hemmed by those same fingers. They press an indent into the bed, a bracelet of bruises into his skin.

“S’tell me what you want,” he asks, with a hunger in his tone that Shuichi thinks demands the kind of begging he’s too abashed to give.

“I… wh-what I want?” Shuichi stammers.

_Smack!_

And Shuichi releases a terribly undignified yelp, covering his mouth with his free hand while the other one wriggles uselessly in the sheets. Kaito rolls his hips up, smoothing his hand back down against Shuichi’s backside in what he thinks could be comfort if it were with his palm and not two fingers, like he’s checking a mantlepiece for dust or admiring a hot car.

“Yeah,” he insists. “The slut’s gotta beg.”

Oh, that word makes Shuichi feel slimy all over. His head is swimming and before he can connect properly that its _Kaito_ who just said this, day-dreamy Kaito, can’t make love without holding hands Kaito—

_Smack!_

This time, Shuichi just gasps, more at his own sick pleasure over the stinging rippling through him than the act. He bites his own fingers.

“C’mon!” Kaito barks moments before craning down until there’s nary a space between their bodies but the way Shuichi arches against him; it’s then that his voice turns melty like honey. “You wanted mean, baby. If you wanna get _fucked right,_ Daddy’s gotta know what you want.”

Even the tempo of his touches have turned awfully slow, like the way his thumb has slotted itself between Shuichi’s cheeks and is circling leisurely around the hole. Kaito’s voice slides right through his head much like he’d think a knife would when he says, “I haven’t got all day,” like he’s holding his breath hostage behind a row of teeth. What breath there _is_ has ghosted across his neck where sweat’s collecting.

Shuichi trembles.

“I want you,” he says, and he wants so badly to let go.

Wave after wave of anxiety wracks his feeble, horny body. How much pleasure could he have if only he could say it, Shuichi wonders, shivering when Kaito buries his face in a sticky shoulder and breathes in deep.

“Just me?” Kaito asks and his thumb’s not stopped smoothing small circles.

“Only you,” Shuichi blurts.

The chuckle doesn’t leave Kaito’s mouth. It shakes around in his throat.

“I guess it’s ‘do what I want’ night,” he says. “And I want you to _scream.”_

As if he’d forgotten Kaito were hilt-deep inside him, Shuichi’s stunned when Kaito’s grip tightens and his hips pull back only to rush into him again. The way Kaito never fails to make him feel full is phenomenal. Shuichi’s back bends into his thrusts easily. It’s a relatively new addition when Kaito straightens his back up, spits a wad between his cheeks, and _digs_ his thumb down.

Gut twirling with disgust, and a pleasure he has no name for, Shuichi moans something shuddered and destroyed. Kaito’s thumb twists. Shuichi thinks Kaito can feel his own dick from the other side by the way he’s kneading and giggling something dark.

“Oh, I’ve not touched you here yet?”

The question comes, nearly genuine. Shuichi’s eyes are locked shut, feeling shame as his muscle gives, swallowing the knuckle. His breath wheezes out.

“Baby boy, you’re hardly broken in at all,” Kaito chides. “What have I been doin’ this whole time?”

It’s not… wholly unpleasant, Shuichi decides. Despite not having felt anything in his ass before, he thinks this is bearable. It’s almost good actually, the way the fullness feels. It’s sensitive here and allowing this is a satisfying loss of control. Shuichi bites a wet spot into the sheets, holding back the throatier noises until Kaito’s pushing and pulling his thumb in and out of him. It makes a singer out of him.

Kaito hisses and laughs.

“ _That’s it—_ you know how to be good for me. You know how to enjoy my cock.”

God, Kaito is finally dirty talking him and Shuichi can’t fathom how to respond. With trembling jaw, Shuichi muffles a small, “I do,” into the covers, and Kaito is quick to _smack!_

“Yeah, you do? Show me.”

Shuichi’s entire body quakes, small pinprick sized tears wetting the corners of his eyes. His behind must be bright red by now. Kaito’s hands turn from punishing to mollifying, now glossing over his skin with what Shuichi thinks is care. His pussy clenches at the sensation. _It’s driving him wild._

“Show me why you even _deserve_ this cock.”

Without warning, Shuichi moans something desperate and high, hips stuttering into Kaito’s like he can’t help himself. All of his senses overload. Breathing deeply and finding that all his breaths peter off into broken up cries, Shuichi unravels bit by bit.

And Kaito loves to watch it.

“Like _that,_ like that,” he mutters, sucking in through his teeth as he plunges into Shuichi.

Steadily rocking his hips up and against Kaito’s thrusts, Shuichi turns his head over his shoulder. If only he could see what Kaito looks like right now, for even a second—

Before he can get a good look, Kaito’s digits are in his hair: punitive, and Shuichi’s voice comes easy.

“Ah, D-daddy,” he whimpers in a crumbly breath, automatic, trading his reservations for the warmth in his lower belly.

Kaito’s fingers tangle until he’s flush against the heat of his scalp and he smiles.

“There’s that voice, baby, sing to me. Tell Daddy what you want.”

All these feelings coil in Shuichi’s gut, rising higher and higher in him with every thrust Kaito makes. Every grunt he makes sends a chill through Shuichi’s spinal column. Shuichi finds it’s easier to say what he wants when he frames it as what _Kaito_ wants to hear rather than what he wants to ask for. Chewing his bottom lip apart, Shuichi takes a deep breath.

“M-more,” he starts, gradual. “Ah… please, _deeper,”_ he says, and Kaito stops dead.

Shuichi catches his breath. The thoughts in his head jangle. Every nerve in his body tingles and every muscle pliantly squeezes. Sweat falls off Shuichi like condensation, and Kaito plucks his thumb out.

“Deeper?”

_Smack!_

“How much dick do you think I got? Do you see me beggin’ _tighter, oh tighter, Shuichi,_ when you start feelin’ looser?” Kaito jeers, voice lifting in volume before he’s rubbing his palm up and down Shuichi’s ass again, where it’s reddest. “Or maybe my cock’s not good enough for you. You need somebody else’s,” he reasons, and Shuichi shivers in reply.

“N-no—”

“Seems like you do,” Kaito says, and once it’s become a matter of perceived hurt feelings, Shuichi can’t find the humiliation holding him back like before.

“I don’t want anyone else… um, touching me, but you.”

Kaito shifts like he’s moving to pull out of Shuichi and Shuichi backs up into him, sitting up on his knees until they’re back to belly, and he takes Kaito’s hand. He still can’t see his face. That makes this easier to say, then.

“You’re just fine, I just want… more of you, s-so much more that, ah… I don’t think I’m capable of having enough.”

Shuichi’s chin sits so uncertain in Kaito’s grip and he turns his head with the motion as Kaito brings their faces to meet. At this proximity, he can see an angry emptiness in Kaito’s eyes. An almost incandescent lilac has been replaced with a hollow indigo, and he speaks like he’s got secrets in his throat— straining to keep them.

“Is that so?” he asks.

Like it’s detrimental to his ego, Kaito yanks back on Shuichi’s hair.

_“How much?”_

Clenching up at the pain, delightful, _wanted,_ all of Shuichi’s thoughts fall out of his head, sludge out his ears. All that remains is Kaito, Kaito, _Kaito._

“S-so bad,” he cries. “So much. I want you so bad. I want you… t-to fuck me so much—”

A scream cuts Shuichi off as Kaito lifts Shuichi’s hips only to yank him down upon him, driving in hard and letting him see stars. The scream was his own. It shatters in his throat and breaks apart when Kaito begins fucking into him messy. It’s impatient and it’s rough, and it’s everything Shuichi could’ve wanted.

They both fall back upon the bed. Kaito’s splayed out on his back while Shuichi lays over top of him, belly up, gagging on Kaito’s fingers as he works them down his throat. His hands snatch the sheets. Writhing and rocking against Kaito inside of him, Shuichi whines wanton and honest— _so honest._

“Daddy, _don’t stop,”_ falls like water out of Shuichi’s prone mouth, inhibitions all but forgotten.

Kaito’s hips snap up into him and his grip on Shuichi’s hip, slippery with sweat, is turning frantic.

“ _Fuck—_ you’re such a good cock slut,” groans Kaito, wiggling his fingers around in Shuichi’s panting mouth. “You take it so good, take it _so good for me, Shuichi.”_

Catching the conch of Shuichi’s ear by the teeth, Kaito bites down and Shuichi’s hands jolt to Kaito’s thighs, working into him steadily and taking him apart. He’s not going to last. He’s coming undone too fast.

“K… Kaito,” Shuichi coughs out through his fingers, huffing like he’s moments from tears. “Kaito I’m— I’m… y-you’re gonna make me—”

“Cum,” he demands, simply. “Cum all over this cock you love so much.”

Kaito spits it like an insult, like he dares Shuichi to do it.

Shuichi can’t fight that. He climaxes like he’s never before with the Kaito who’s always smothering I love you’s into his neck; he climaxes very unlike he does when they make love. This Kaito’s drowning him in fingers so filthy and touch so toxic, pulling the dirtiest, most base form of Shuichi into the forefront of his mind and fucking him nasty.

But this is what Shuichi wanted. Shuichi wanted _nasty._

Seconds after Shuichi’s finished shaking all over, squeezing and milking Kaito’s dick for all it’s worth, Kaito rolls them both over onto the bed and he pulls out. Kaito crawls on top. He positions his dick just inches from his mouth. Shuichi reels, dizzy and trembly, floundering for the other man who’s he sat upright on his knees, leering with a special kind of darkness in his eyes visible even through the dim lighting.

With a certain shamelessness Shuichi could never associate with Kaito, he finishes himself. His strokes are hard and fast. The slick sounds of his palm ghosting across his dick make Shuichi swallow hard. He’d suck him off if only he asked him to. Unabashed as he grins back at Shuichi, as if he’s got a _surprise_ for him, he says, “open up,” and lovingly he does.

Shot after shot makes it near to his mouth. Shuichi closes his eyes as the warm ropes dangle off his face. They burn moments before they chill to the air. What drips into his mouth tastes acidic and salty. He flinches some, thankful somewhere in his head that he’d taken it on the face and not in the mouth.

Hearing Kaito _phew_ and flop back onto the mattress making it squeak, Shuichi takes the sheets and makes an executive decision that he’d prefer this cum on them rather than him. Once he’s wiped his face clean he opens his eyes to a startling sight: Kaito’s already up and in the bathroom.

Some part of Shuichi’s chest feels heavy and he isn’t sure why.

Wasn’t all of that really hot and… fun?

Regarding the numerous stains on the bed with remorseful pangs, Shuichi tip toes from the bed and over to the bathroom where he finds Kaito taking a piss. The yellow swirls around the bowl loudly and the door is open. Kaito usually doesn’t leave the door open.

Something, really must be different.

Blinking at the fluorescent lighting, Shuichi frowns.

“You’ve been different since the flashback light,” he says.

Kaito makes some kind of shrug, like a kid who’s embarrassed of it but then he just shakes his dick and smirks.

“You’re the detective this time, kid. Should’ve taken you less time to figure that out.”

“This time?” Shuichi asks with a certain measure of confusion, already brainstorming over what that could possibly mean.

Even unclothed, Kaito’s body moves less like a friend and more like a knife— sharp, gaunt, and like any second now he’s going to snatch up Shuichi’s hair again. It puts him on edge. As Kaito shifts past, he clicks the light off on Shuichi, who follows behind him and tugs at his arm.

“Momota-kun—”

“Hands off, cutie,” he says bleakly, like Shuichi is the least beautiful person he’s ever seen, and Shuichi’s hands leave him.

Not much else is said between them. Not much until tomorrow.

* * *

“So… you don’t remember anything about yesterday?” Shuichi asks, equal parts relieved and concerned.

“No, m’fraid not, sidekick. I woke up today feelin’ spacey as all hell, and not in the good way,” Kaito explains at the breakfast table. “I remember comin’ here for breakfast yesterday and then… nothin’ happens after.”

Shuichi tries his best to hide a tremble, thinking back on the bittersweet events of yesterday, wondering if it’s worth it to bring it up at all with a guy who won’t remember he hurt his feelings.

Like always though, Kaito’s hands float to where Shuichi’s are and charm him with a warmth that he knows he can’t get anywhere else. Glancing back up at him, the pearly white smile he knows is there. Kaito’s expression is riddled with unease that his grin can’t mask away, but he’s lacing their fingers tensely and speaking so, so gentle.

“Hey, don’t worry about me, alright? We all have those weird days. I was just zoned out all of yesterday, that’s all,” Kaito says, kissing the back of his hand slow and true. “Nothin’ bad’s goin on with me at all, so don’t even think about it.”

In truth, Shuichi doesn’t but he doesn’t say that. Instead he smiles back and feels his cheeks reject the false molding of his face for as long as he holds it for. What he’s really thinking of is how this all happened.

It was caused by the flashback light, so whatever that reaction was, the mastermind undid it overnight. That means something to him. That tells him _something_ about everything that’s going on here.

More importantly though, this all told him so much about the man in front of him— dear, sweet, kind Kaito… 

He’ll always prefer him this way, but knowing that there’s some kind of deviant in there too makes Shuichi’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

Impulsively, “are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

Kaito thinks hard.

“No, why?”

Shuichi crosses his legs and clears his throat.

“N-no reason.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted pre-game kaito to meet in-game shuichi somehow. this felt like an off the wall enough concept to not put it in my fic dump. uh... i have nothing to say for myself, in fact. its very dirty lol.
> 
> i mentioned this on my trans kaito fic but i'm also nb dfab trans! my experiences in being trans and enjoying sex (especially the kinky sort) could very well be different from other people's. what words i use to refer to my own body might not be the same you would use for yours. what triggers my dysphoria may not trigger yours.


End file.
